Kill Myself
by Alexa Jay
Summary: Hermione's suicidal and sometimes humerous POV of her seventh year. Rated T for language, violence, and graphic descriptions. Please R&R. Based on the song Kill Myself by Tim McGraw.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Diary,

I honestly think something is wrong with me.

No lie.

It seems that whatever happens in my life, nothing is ever good in my eyes. Like at the end of last year, when Snape disappeared, I still felt horrible. No matter how much Harry, Ron, or Ginny tried to cheer me up. It‛s like there was a force inside me, driving all signs of happiness out of me and never to come back again.

Through the summer I should have enjoyed myself, staying with Harry and the Weasley‛s at the Burrow. I do have to admit I was enjoying myself more than usual, even Mrs. Weasley asked me if I was OK because I was being so melancholy. Everyone figured I would come out of my slump when my letter arrived making me Head Girl, but only the smallest smile escaped my lips.

Harry and Ginny soon gave up trying to make me happy, I suppose I aggravated them too much. Ron didn‛t though, he‛s such a sweetie. He kept trying to make me laugh, I suppose I was a bit harsh when I told him that he didn‛t have to try, he looked funny enough to make me laugh. I think I may have hurt his feelings. Oh well. He‛s Ron. He‛ll come crawling back, he always does.

Diagon Alley was completely uneventful, beside the remark made by Ginny when she told me that I didn‛t seem interested in buying my things for this year and seemed out of it. I told her that it was just stress, and that seemed to shut her up. I‛ll admit, yes, I‛m not feeling the best these days, but I know it. I don‛t need people on my case about it.

So now we‛re on the train, headed to Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy‛s head boy (ugh) and I just got finished instructing prefects on what to do and such. I‛m supposed to be patrolling the corridors, but I took a little break. I needed it.

I don‛t know where Ron and Harry and the rest of them are. I suppose I‛ll have to go find them later. I went straight to the Prefect carriage as soon as I got aboard, and now I have climbed up into an empty compartment writing this. I really don‛t feel like looking for them now, maybe if they care they‛ll come and find me.

Well, I better go. I can hear someone calling my name. It‛s probably a confused prefect of something. I‛ll have to go look into it. But first, a few closing words.

I think I‛ve decided to kill myself.

_ The drastic steps I've taken are just an act of desperation_

_I knew no one would me miss me so what the Hell_

_I fought I lied I drank too much_

_Hurt everyone I've ever touched_

_And just how much I've hurt you is hard to tell_

_This is not some cry for help_

_It's goodbye I wish you well_

_Because I love you_

_I'm gonna Kill myself  
_

- Hermione Jane Granger


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Diary,

I‛m getting sick of everyone asking me if I‛m okay and all of this nonsense. On our first day back, in Charms, our first class, Flitwick asked me if I was feeling alright because I had only answered one question. God, does everyone expect me to be some sort of super genius? I mean, yeah I‛m smart. That doesn‛t mean I know everything, despite what some people think.

However, my day was brightened a little by a conversation that Ron and I had in the common room just a few minutes ago, before I came up to my dormitory to write in this.

‟Hey Hermione," Ron said, sitting down on the couch beside me. ‟Whatcha workin‛ on?"

I looked up from my Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. ‟Essay. Remember? For Professor Terry?" Terry was the newest DADA professor. He was quite good. I had come to the conclusion he was the second best we‛ve had, aside from Lupin, of course.

‟Oh yeah. That. I‛ll just copy off of yours."

‟Sure, Ron. I don‛t care a bit." My words were dripping with my newfound sarcasm.

‟But, I came down here to ask you something. Well, actually, Phlem- Fleur wanted me to ask you. Because they had to post-pone the wedding so she could finish planning, she wanted me to ask you if you would be her maid of honor. I told her- ‛Well, I‛ll ask.‛"

I made a face. ‟Ugh, I hate her. But tell her I guess I will though. It would be fun. Ginny and I could bewitch her dress to turn green or something horrid like that."

Ron laughed. ‟She‛s really not so bad, Hermione." he tried to convince me. I noticed his ears were turning pink.

‟You only say that because you‛re infatuated with her," I retorted, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes, giving him the look.

‟And so what if I am?" Ron told me, standing up. ‟I‛m going to bed. G‛night."

He turned away before I got to answer him. For some reason I found that whole conversation very warm and cutesy, like a Hallmark card. I guess it‛s hard for Ron, though, his not-so-secret crush marrying his brother. It sounds like something out of a soap opera. I guess that all of life is a soap opera, though.

I suppose I better go now, I‛ve got a couple bottles of firewhiskey in my trunk, and I feel the need to drink away the numbness. It‛s still quite early, so perhaps I‛ll go try and find Harry or Ginny when I‛m through. Maybe getting a little pissed will help tell someone about my feelings...

Or maybe I just need to talk to someone . Misery loves company.

I‛ve started planning. I‛ve got my whole tactic set out. All I‛m going to do is get a belt and wrap it around my neck. Climb up on a chair and attach it to the ceiling (need a low ceiling. Maybe empty classroom on third floor). Then I kick the chair out of the way, and Hermione Granger is no more.

Simple as that.

- Hermione Jane Granger


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Diary,

Oh snap.

It started out innocent, it really did. I had went through several bottles of Fire Whiskey and well, just really wanted some company. Honestly. I did not expect for things to turn out the way they did. I swear, I‛m going to have to go and Obliviate him now or something. Something so he can‛t remember that we had our encounter.

Oh God. I‛ll never be able to live this down.

Let me back up and explain how it all happened. I went off in search of a friend after finishing off my bottle. I had gone through every floor and soon was on the fourth floor, east corridor. I kept peeping my head into different rooms, yelling for someone and making everyone think I had gone completely psycho. The only person I had found was Dobby, and even he was too busy to stop and chat.

So you can imagine how crappy I felt.

But, anyway, that‛s when I saw him. Sitting all by his lonesome in a room, downing a bottle of whiskey too. So I thought, ‟Well hey. Maybe he‛s suicidal too." Of course, I approached him, and mind you, I was quite drunk at this time.

‟Are you suicidal too?" I asked him, taking his hand. I‛m sure he thought I was crazy, but he didn‛t say anything like that. He answered my question, so I assume he was also quite drunk.

‟Yes," he answered, quite miserably. I felt a pang of sympathy towards him, and he offered me the bottle. I took it gratefully.

I‛m not going to explain the rest of the night because I can‛t bring myself to face it, but let‛s just say one thing led to another, and the alcohol rushing through our veins, I‛m not exactly a sweet and innocent little girl anymore. I‛ve been robbed of it.

Or, more like I offered it to him.

But anyway, when we were done, we were laying there, all sweaty and stuff, when I hear a knock on the door. Of course, I about wet myself in fear of someone finding out what I did. He quickly told them someone was in the room, and I grabbed all of my stuff quickly and put on my clothes again.

And then I began to threaten to beat him within an inch of his life if he ever told anyone about what we did. He said he wouldn‛t, because it wouldn‛t look good for him either, sleeping around with the Head Girl.

And so, just as I was about to leave, I stopped to remind him once again ‟Not to tell anyone that we had sex." And of course, as soon as I said that sentence, the door opens and I see Ron standing there.

‟Hermione! You slept with------


End file.
